Harry Potter and the Heir of Pendragon
by Aries Zodiac
Summary: Harry is 'of age' and has no home. Where will he go? In the meantime, Percy Weasley has been trapped into paying two KinDebts and a Life Debt. He's on the front line for this war, but to protect his family, he must alienate them. noslash
1. Prologue

**Harry Potter and the Heir of Pendragon**

_A.Z. _

_Not mine (is it ever?).

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_

_Prologue

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_

The shouting was still going on when he stormed out of the house. He kept his fists clenched as he knew when he let them go they would shake with emotion and reaction. His face, normally pale with too little sun was a ruddy colour that matched his equally red hair, and his long wizarding robes swirled around his legs, nearly tripping him up as he half-stumbled out of the gate. He knew he couldn't Apparate until he'd calmed down, not if he didn't want to leave a body part -or several!- behind, so he strode quickly down the narrow country laneway until he was absolutely certain he was out of sight of his house. He paused for a second, glanced around and ducked off the path and into the field beyond. A huge oak dwarfed the surrounding hedges and the young man patted the trunk with a slightly trembling hand. It had always been a favourite thinking spot.

He sank down, leaning against the trunk for support and stared off into the darkness. Well, that was that. He'd done it. He'd broken all ties with his family, made them think he hated them. He knew for sure _they _must hate _him_. How could they not? Ron and Fred in particular had thrown both spiteful words and a hex or two his way before dropping the act to favour sending him to Coventry.

_He entered the kitchen. Fred, George and Ron were sitting there, Ron playing chess with George, both laughing at something Fred had said. He paused a millisecond to watch them and the temperature dropped by about fourteen degrees as they noticed him. Ron scowled at him before pointedly ignoring him. Fred wrinkled his nose like he smelled something nasty in the air._

"_C'mon…" Fred muttered as Percy entered the kitchen, determined not to be driven out. He kept his face turned slightly away from the hurtful actions of his younger sibs. Ron and Fred walked deliberately out in silence, only pausing to throw an even more vitriolic look his way in the case of the youngest brother. George hesitated at the table for a second, not meeting Percy's eyes before sighing and going after the other two._

That had been this morning. Unable to bear the charade any longer, he had provoked the final row and walked out. Hell with their damned plan. This was hard enough. If it wasn't for the fact that he _had _to do this, he would never have been strong enough for it. He winced as he replayed some of the harsher words flung about in the little kitchen that evening. He had unerringly picked his parents weakest spots- how to hurt them all them most in that horrible fight. Although his mother in particular had thrown some fairly hurtful remarks back at him in her fury.

"_Until you learn how to see past yourself and your own ambition, don't come back!" she hurled after him as he stormed out of the door. _

His own ambition? Well, yes, he had to admit, a few months ago, that would have been a perfectly fair way of putting it. But the worst, the absolute worst remark had been one he hadn't been supposed to hear. Halfway down the path, his steps had faltered as his mother's sobs floated through the thin night-time air. He had a sudden urge to rush back, break down himself and beg her forgiveness. But through her crying he heard her say something.

"_Arthur, sometimes I wonder…how could even be our son? He can't be!"_

Even the memory of those words hit him again with the same punch. He'd half fallen out of the gate as the kitchen door swung shut behind him, that final _slam! _sounding all too definite. His eyes pricked again as he drew some deep calming breaths and he unclenched his hands again, bring himself back under control. Suddenly, a rather unexpected sound filled the air- the annoying tune of a mobile phone ringing. He cursed the inane jingle and grimaced at the name that came up on the screen.

"Did you succeed?" asked a voice at the other end. Percy glared hatefully into the black but kept his voice under control.

"Yes. They're safe. They no longer regard me as…family." He was proud of how he kept his voice fairly neutral.

"Ok. Find us in London." The speaker paused before adding in a rather gentler voice. "It's the best way, Sam, the only way. They'd be targets otherwise and this way…"

"I know!" 'Sam' snapped back "I know…"

"Good then. Good work." The speaker returned back to the previous impersonal style and then hung up, leaving the red-haired young man almost spitting with anger again.

"Good work? _Good work!_" he hissed at it in almost incoherent fury. "When they…when I…You..you…gaah!" With this last intelligent comment he flung the piece of machinery into the field in front of him and scowled at the flash of light as it described a lazy arc in the air, winking out halfway.

"Bugger…" he sighed when he'd managed to calm himself down again and realised it could have landed anywhere. He pulled out his wand and muttered a charm. The mobile lit up again about twenty feet away. Oops. He'd be lucky if he hadn't broken the blasted object. He bent over to retrieve it and paused when it was stowed away again. He stood for a second, breathing in the night air and glancing around at the once-familiar surroundings. They didn't seem as friendly anymore. He Apparated away, leaving no trace of his presence behind.

* * *

**_Preview of Chapter One- The Vision_**

_He shook the painful thoughts out of his mind and tried to remember the vision as he had seen it…RON! He had to warn him…or at least find out if it was true. He scrambled out of bed, skipping over the plank in the floor that squeaked automatically. He took up some parchment and hunted about for a quill. In the absence of one, he used a biro. He chewed the end of it in thought and the images flashed through his mind once more.

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_

Well, this is the beginning of a long fic, set just after OOtP. So yes, there will be Harry-angst etc over the events in the Ministry, although not too much. Poor kid's not gonna get much of a break…

Also centering on Percy, because I think he'd make an interesting character to base a fic on. That does not …necessarily make him the Heir of the title. Percy will get a lot to do in this one, focussing on his withdrawal from the Weasley clan and why.

Following chapters will be longer, I promise.

RELOADED TO SORT OUT SOME BUGS.

_**PLEASE please please give me some feedback, just so I can feel at least someone out there wants to see more of it! **_

**_Thankee in advance!_**

**_AZ_**


	2. 1: The Vision

**_Chapter 1_**

**The Vision

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**

**Disclaimer**: _Look, if OWNED them, I wouldn't be writing FANfiction! You don't see JK Rowling here do ya? This applies for the prologue and at least the next four chapters- it'll be that long until I remember to do another one!_

_Thank-you **C'mon**, **Silver Mirror** and **Labrat-Speedy** for their reviews and encouragement. You dudettes rock!_

_RELOADED TO SORT SOME BUGS

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_

Harry woke up with a start in the small room in No.4, Privet Drive. He relaxed slightly- it was okay, there were the oh-so-familiar walls, the narrow scratchy bed- it was okay...he woke up rather more as the events of the last few days flooded back to him. It was the Christmas holidays and he was stuck here for a few days. Harry was supposed to be going to the Weasleys' tomorrow but he'd had to return to Privet Drive for a few days to renew the protection- hopefully in lieu of being stuck here over the summer. The Dursleys had not been happy to see him and had made it very pointedly clear. Their animosity was only slightly tempered by the news of a possible Harry-free summer. Of course, came an unbidden thought, if Voldemort's annual murder attempt actually works for once, all their summers will be Harry-free.

He shook the unpleasant thoughts out of his mind and lay back again before sitting up suddenly-the dream! No- the _vision_! It was coming back to him now and what he remembered made his eyes widen in panic…_RON_! He had to warn him…or at least find out if it was true. Scrambling out of bed, he automatically skipped over the plank in the floor that squeaked . He took up some parchment and hunted about for a quill. In the absence of one, he used a biro. He chewed the end of it in thought and the images flashed through his mind once more.

* * *

_Okay then…narrow laneway- trees on either side- looked familier…the Burrow! Dark- half-moon. Three figures walking- his best friend Ron…and Ginny…He felt his cheeks heat up a small bit…Ron's little sister! His thoughts finished sternly. And…who was that? Percy Weasley. The older Weasley brother was ranting from the look of it- arms gesticulating angrily as he tried to make a point. His face, normally petulant, bland or exasperated was red and animated. Voices faded in._

"_Ron- It is not safe for either of you to be with that boy! I'm saying this for your own good!"_

_Hah…two guesses as to what_ that _row was about._

"_Dangerous? For us? Or for your precious career! Come on Percy, I don't suppose it's good for the future Minister of Magic to have family consorting with someone who's 'disturbed and dangerous'…" Ron wasn't shouting, but his words carried a bitter, mocking edge even more dangerous. Harry'd only once had that edge directed at him, and he hoped not to be on the receiving side again._

_Percy looked like he wanted to physically attack his younger bother and was only restraining himself by dint of effort and practice. He opened his mouth again but never got to say anything._

"_**Stupefy**!" A flash of light flew out of a hedge and narrowly missed Ron's head._

_All three Weasleys spun to face the threat, wands coming out and pointed towards the roadside. There was nowhere to hide. Three shadows glided out onto the road, two blocking the route to safety. Percy, the row shelved for the moment, stepped in front of his younger siblings and demanded to know what they wanted._

"_Three Weasleys? My Master will be pleased."_

_It's Malfoy! Harry's mind screamed. Death-Eaters! Ron, Ginny! Get out of there!_

"_**Immobilis**!" Ron shouted, wand pointed at one of the two Death-Eaters who so far hadn't spoken. It was a good curse, Harry noted. And it connected too, leaving them with one less enemy. Ginny's **Stupefy** and Percy's full body-bind took care of the other two. But…_

"_**Reducto**!" someone hissed. Backup! The curse glanced off Percy and sent him spinning into the hedge, leaving Ron and Ginny open to attack. They weren't defenceless but surrounded as they quickly were, it was a hopeless battle. A green light flashed…

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_

Even as all this flew through Harry's mind he was writing feverishly. He had to get this to Dumbledore. Had he just imagined the green light? He'd woken up too quickly to know for sure…He hoped…_prayed_ he had…but a gnawing fear told him otherwise.

"Hedwig!" The snowy owl let out a sleepy hoot. She'd returned from hunting already and wanted a nap. But she seemed to recognise the seriousness of the situation and, with a resigned sort of bird-sigh she hopped up and let him tie on the message. He'd not put in all the detail- just;

"**_Sir, Had another dream- Ron, Ginny and Percy attacked outside the Burrow. Death-Eaters including Malfoy. Will send full later. Harry"_**

He hoped it made sense. He also felt rather sorry to send Hedwig out into the cold December night but it really was important.

"Dumbledore, Hedwig. Thanks girl." Hedwig hooted again, reassuringly this time and flew silently into the night.

"WILL YOU SHUT THAT RUDDY BIRD UP!"

Maybe not quite silent.

* * *

There was no way he could go back to sleep now. He paced, sat, even in desperation tried reading one of Dudley's rejected books, throwing it onto the bed after reading the first line six times. It made no more sense the sixth time then it had the first. Mind you, it was called Quake III, The Backstory, so maybe it wasn't meant to.

He glared balefully at the door of his -no, Dudley's second- bedroom. In which he was as welcome as dry rot. And treated in much the same way. Pretend it's not there- maybe we can convince it it's not there too. Although dry rot didn't tend to have to paint the house, wash the windows and do the gardening all within two days of appearing.

_Come on, Hedwig! _he thought desperately, aware that his thought process was not only ridiculous, but getting dangerously self-pitying.

_Bring me some good news!

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_

Hedwig returned later that night- close to dawn and a relieved Harry nearly jumped on her to retrieve the…two? messages attached to her leg. The owl ruffled her feathers in displeasure at his haste and he apologised to her, but didn't pause as he opened the note with shaking hands. Albus Dumbledore's neat flowing script took up the small scroll.

_**Dear Harry,**_

_**I was at the Burrow this evening and I can assure you that no attack took place. The younger Mr. Weasley and Miss Weasley are safe in Grimmauld Place and the elder is already back in London. No Death-Eaters breached the wards.**_

Harry sighed with relief, the nervous energy deserting him suddenly and leaving his legs weak. He flopped back down on the bed. It had felt so real… He continued;

_**Nevertheless, you did the right thing in telling me about this, and I commend both your speed and conciseness. It is possible that the attack was planned by Voldemort but not carried out. Or even perhaps that it was just a dream. We do not know the full extent of your connection with him as yet. **_

_**You may come here tomorrow as previously arranged, if you still wish it. Mrs. Weasley and Sirius have both been quite adamant on the subject.**_

_Hmm…don't sound too happy there, Professor- your beard might catch fire,_ Harry couldn't help but think. He smiled wryly at the last comment. Sounded like Dumbledore had been on the receiving end of a lecture. And Sirius and Mrs Weasley teamed up would be quite a formidable team. He couldn't blame Dumbledore for acquiescing! The smile turned wistful. It was nice to be going somewhere where he was wanted (He tried to keep Percy Weasley's words out of his head.) The rest of the letter was mainly taken up with a sign-off and Professor Dumbledore's rather long signature. He opened the other note curiously. The messy scrawl gave it away immediately- Ron!

**_Hey mate,_** Harry read. Looked like Ron had just been woken up.

_**Nothing's going on here unless it could have been a vision…you know, like a prophecy? Does this thing work like that? Ask Hermione, maybe. Anyway, had a row with Percy, the git, earlier today outside, but nothing came of it. Went back inside and played exploding snap with the twins and he wandered off to sulk somewhere. You know what he's like.**_

Harry frowned- yes, he did. And how did he know? Because he'd been privy to the conversation in his dream! But…how could only one half of it happen? Or was it just co-incidence? And that green light?

_**Anyway, they say you can definitely come tomorrow and stay over Christmas! Great! And don't mind the Big-Head Boy. He'll get over it…eventually. Signing off, Hedwig's getting a bit impaatient!** _

The last word was scrawled particularly messily, as if the writer was busy fending off someone. Harry automatically reached out and petted the white owl who was standing beside him, back turned, offended at being apparently ignored.

"Sorry girl." he murmured to her. "And thanks for being so quick." He gave her some owl-treats (which she huffily accepted), finished the letter and made the best of the short time he had left before dawn.

* * *

He was woken early by the dulcet tones of the harpy and the roaring of the minotaur. (Right, no more Greek legends for you, Potter, he thought fuzzily to himself as he fumbled for his glasses.) His uncle still had to go to work so _he_ could be useful and earn his keep was general gist of her curt, angry speech. But she said her piece in a lower voice then usual- obviously not wanting to waken her poor tired-out Duddikins, who had a long day ahead terrorising the neighbouring children. And if it meant she wouldn't shriek like a wounded banshee in his ear then Harry supposed he was grateful.

He swung his legs out of bed and proceeded to get up in stages- brain, as usual, last to engage. It had been a long night.

His brain cells kicked into gear while he was making breakfast (An English fry for his uncle and aunt and maybe porridge for himself if he got time.) Maybe it was the smell of the rashers, but it prodded his thinking-processes into moving and he mulled over the events of the previous night.

His distraction caused him the immortal sin of dropping a rasher on the tablecloth instead of his aunt's plate. He rescued it with the spatula but hot fat had already penetrated the tablecloth. Aunt Petunia looked at him with horror and disgust and Harry shrugged impatiently, suddenly not having the time or the patience for this rubbish.

"Sorry." his sense of self-preservation muttered, but Uncle Vernon was already turning purple. Harry wondered if this was to be the "You are rubbish, boy, and we took you in out of the goodness of our hearts…" lecture or the "How dare you, after all we've done for you…" speech.

"How dare you, after all we've done for you…" Vernon started. Harry relaxed slightly. Number 13, it could be worse. "You are rubbish, boy, like your rubbishy parents and we took you in out of the goodness of our hearts…" Harry's eyebrows shot up. Number 4 as well- he was honoured today. Oy… Number 4 was a pain. He had to repress the urge to turn all three of them into newts.

"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME, BOY?" came the roar. Belatedly, Harry snapped back to attention to hear in detail how his parents were worthless malingerers, sponging off others and how he was just as bad, if not worse. Once, these words would have upset Harry a lot, but he knew more about Lily and James Potter now, and the lies didn't hurt as much. _I'm going to Grimmauld place for Christmas! I'm going today- I'll see Sirius and Ron and Ginny _(the tips of his ears turned red again) _eh...and the twins and Mrs. Weasley! _he finished quickly.

The lecture was finished soon enough- Vernon was in a hurry, but his moment's inattention cost Harry his breakfast. He ran upstairs, not even the growling of his stomach or Uncle Vernon's worst shouting could keep him from being happy and excited as he pushed the memory of the dream, with it's eerie green light, from his mind.

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_Well, another chapter done- this one was quite hard to do for some reason- but it's done and possibly even dusted._

_And to **Labrat**- grins evilly I couldn't possibly say...hehehe... But I like your thinking!_

_AZ

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	3. 2: The Memory

Blast it- sorry Labrat, the info I gave you about the timeline was completely screwed up, not to mention just plain wrong. Sorry about that.

The events of the **Prologue **take place in the summer after **OotP**, making it AU by a year. **Chapter One; The Vision **is set in December, four months before (also before Sirius' death)

_Thankyou to Labrat- Speedy, Silver Mirror, Zoran, Velvet Green and 24601 for their reviews! You already know you rock, so i won't tell ye again (until next chapter)_

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**Chapter 3**

**The Memory

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**

Four months later, a young man was writing a report with his head leaning heavily on his hand. He was writing automatically, years of practice helping to recall events, extrapolate the important data and write clearly and concisely. Hs actual brain however, was immersed in other things. Such as just how completely and utterly knackered he was.

He was sitting at his writing-desk in a small bedroom with Muggle lighting which glared impartially around the room, reflecting off white, stark walls and making the occupant even more tired. It was not a room designed for living in. And indeed, it was not often used for such a purpose. The owner, a thin, rather haggard man who looked at least six years older then his twenty-one years, spent most of his time working outside this unwelcoming living space. He might sleep here but it was no home. His work, well, he had several jobs now, all of which could be classified as full-time work, some of it more then a little dangerous.

His first, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, was his official occupation. Once, he had looked at the title with pride and excitement. It was a chance to make a difference in the sometimes worthwhile, often tedious and occasionally dangerous world of politics. And of course, it was one step closer to being the Minister of Magic. Now…well, he looked at the cumbersome title with nothing more then weariness. And a certain amount of self-disgust at his own gullibility right at the start. Although he had time and again proved his worthiness at his job, he couldn't quite put the humiliation of the original reason for his promotion from his mind.

* * *

He wrapped up the report soon enough. As he paused to dip the quill into the pot for the last time his sleeve rode up slightly, revealing a black mark staining his upper forearm and the crook of his elbow. He scowled at it and brushed the sleeve back over the scars that controlled his life. Perhaps the rest of it. They weren't usually so clear, thank -whatever god or spirit cared to be helpful. Usually, they were the same colour as his skin- he worked at keeping his temper and mindset neutral- anger or fear made them darken into obviousness and, as he had no desire to be lynched as a Death-Eater, he controlled the emotions. 

The marks made his mind wander although his hand had started writing up another report- a legit one this time. He'd always been rather good at multi-tasking and this he could write in his sleep anyway.

_"Ron- It is not safe for either of you to be with that boy! I'm saying this for your own good!"_

Oy…had he really come across so damn pretentious and… well…whiny? He had meant the words at the time- still did in a way but…well, they didn't come out quite the way he'd meant them.

_"Dangerous? For us? Or for your precious career! Come on Percy, I don't suppose it's good for the future Minister of Magic to have family consorting with someone who's 'disturbed and dangerous'…" _

Ouch and double-ouch. Ron was surprisingly astute at picking the sore spots. But he really hadn't been warning Ron off Harry for the sake of his own career- it was for the sake of the whole family and Ron and Ginny especially. Ron and Ginny had both nearly been killed- several times over now! And it was mainly due to one Harry Potter. Although Percy had come to several realisations, forcing himself to be honest in the privacy of his mind, going through everything he knew about the black-haired boy. He had to admit the boy wasn't a glory-seeker or someone who recklessly endangered both himself and those around him. He'd also had to admit that Harry was right in what he said- Voldemort was back.

_"**Stupefy**!" _

"_Three Weasleys? My Master will be pleased."_

And…had he heard somebody, sounding tinny and far away, screaming? Though he couldn't make out any words…there'd been something there, he was almost sure.

_"**Immobilis**!" _

**"_Immobilus corpus!_"**

_**"Stupefy**!"_

He'd kept in front of his younger sibs as much as possible, trying to shield them but he was impressed at the way they'd reacted. They'd recovered from their shock and taken out two Death-Eater's leaving the other one for him. He'd half-turned to shoo them towards the house and it had been that which had almost certainly saved his life as a **_Reducto _**curse shot out of a hedge, catching him just under the ribs on his side, and spinning him right off the narrow pathway. He'd heard distant shouting but couldn't move, blood already pooling. Then…a flash of green light and…nothing for a few minutes. And then…

_"Hey, mate, wake up, would ya? I haven't got all day." Percy managed to crack an eye open to the incessant chattering. He wanted to tell whoever it was to bugger off, quite frankly, but the man wouldn't let him get even that much out._

_"Good. You gave me a bit of worry there. You owe me, you see and I'd hate not to be able to collect." The last few minutes flooded back and Percy sat up in a hurry, falling back again with a pained squeak as his entire body screeched at him to stop acting the fool and stay still._

_"Ron! Ginny! Where are they? Are they alright?" he demanded. The man waved his arm airily._

_"They're fine. Asleep actually. I wanted a little chat with you…as well as patching you up, I suppose, and they would have just gotten in the way." He helped Percy into a sitting position, leaning against a rock and continued chattering._

_"Good instincts there by the way." he noted clinically. "But your fatal error was to not check for re-enforcements. Mind you, had you'd not turned that one would have killed you easily. So…" he shrugged philosophically._

_Percy saw a crumpled black-cloaked figure on the ground beyond the little man. Death Eater._

_Dead Death Eater. _

_The green light._

_"You killed him, didn't you. **Avada Kedavra**…" he trailed off. The little man shrugged again but his eyes narrowed. _

_"Two actually. And if I hadn't you would be dead and your sibs would already be being tortured by Voldemort for information on Harry Potter."_

_"Harry.." Dammit! It always did seem to come back to him, didn't it?_

_"You know, short lad, black hair, about yay-high. Saviour of the Wizarding World, best friends including Ronald and Ginervra Weasley."_

_"I know who he is!"_

_"Now, the facts of the matter are that I saved your lives. And you owe me." Now the man was business-like and Percy gave him his full attention, agile mind already going through the next few minutes of conversation._

_"You did, and I'm grateful for it. And we are in your debt." he said carefully._

_"Yes. You are. And the debt can be repaid."_

_"How?" Percy asked, although he had a horrible feeling he already knew. The little man laughed and sat down on the rock. Percy noted he kept his wand out._

_"Politician!" snorted the man. "You know what I mean. Yourself and the two young ones owe a life debt each. I call it in by merely asking them to give us some information."_

_"You are not getting Ron and Ginny to spy for you!" Percy snapped, eyes furious, noting the use of the word 'us'. "And they are certainly too young to be called up for this!"_

_"But **you** are not." _

_"One important thing about Life-Bonds is that a person can't be forced to do something totally against their will- or their nature. _**I **_will not spy on my family for you either!"_

_"I healed you- but you're no match for me if I were to take back my aid." There was a definite threat in the man's voice although he was apparently examining his wand with interest, rather then looking at the younger man._

_'Ah crap' thought Percy. "Well, you'd better do that if you're going to." he replied as neutrally as possible. "Because I'm not doing _**that**_."_

_The man's wand snapped down until it was pointing at Percy's neck. _

_"Alright, if that's your choice…personally, I didn't think you would be that opinionated. You're wrong to a certain extent though- there are…ways to make a person do something against their will to follow out a lifebond. And the bond _**will **_be repaid- by all of you."_

_The wand was replaced in the man's pocket and his grim expression relaxed somewhat._

_Percy thought about the situation for a moment. Ron and Ginny were still only kids! Fourteen and fifteen was far too young to be getting involved with… politics and spying. No- that way was impossible- and he wouldn't allow it._

_"Alright- I claim the life bonds of my brother and sister as Kin-debts." he said slowly. "I will undertake to repay the bonds owed."_

_As he finished the words he felt a burning sensation on his arm. He yelped and pulled up his sleeve. There on his arm three marks had formed. A black bar, sloping diagonally from mid-upper arm to his elbow. Another black line banded his arm just below the elbow and a wavy line did the same about an inch below. Lifemark. Kin marks. His oath had been accepted._

_The man laughed suddenly and held out his hand._

_"Dammit- that's five galleons I owe Meg. She bet this is the route you'd choose. I wasn't so sure. Good for you." His smile vanished. "It's quite possible you just saved their lives." Percy didn't take the hand but stared at his saviour. His captor._

_"I won't spy on my family." Percy said firmly._

_"No- I have a different plan for you. The Ministry. Your boss is a lunatic and he's going to get us all killed." He held up a hand to forestall the argument. "Let me finish. Look at everything objectively. If, by the time you are finished, you don't agree with us, then your debt will be cancelled and your memories erased."

* * *

_

Percy realised he had stopped writing, so caught up was he in the memories of that night. Not that there was much to tell. The marks had faded but were still there. That night he'd vanished as soon as he entered the house, ribs and side aching, and researched the black tattoos. What he'd read had chilled him. He would have a year to fulfil each bond. Ginny, as youngest, would have her Debt fulfilled first. Then Ron. Youngest took precedence automatically with this particular charm. If the Repayer was killed it was more likely that younger children had already been released from the Debt. And finally, himself.

He'd not liked spying on the Ministry. But it seemed the Ministry itself had no such scruples- they suspected something about the Order of the Phoenix, in which knew his parents- and probably elder brothers- were involved. He evaded as much of the questioning as possible, withdrawing from his family, trying not to know as much as possible, in case he let something slip. Fudge himself was not subtle, but some of his people were. At the same time he gathered information about the Ministry's inner politics as possible. He stored as much information as he could find about his mysterious possibly- saviour.

It wasn't long before he'd demanded to know who he was working for. He wasn't sure if he'd expected any sort of answer. But the man looked at him sideways and nodded.

"We've really treated you badly." he sighed. "**I** did, anyway- and believe me, I'm going to get into a hell'uva lot of trouble when this comes out."

He winced.

"Already have, actually, by our leader. Anyway, he knows more about you then you can possibly imagine. He says you can be trusted. So…we are the Order of the Knights of the Round Table. A cumbersome title. We are the oldest Order on the side of Light in the world that we know of. The Ministry knows about us- oh, not the present incumbent! But the same laws don't entirely apply to us. We work outside the Ministry for the people of this country- and outside that- the world. Voldemort -oh, stop that wincing, you'll give yourself a twitch- is a danger to that. Your noble leader, Fudge, is almost as bad through sheer stupidity! I trust you know of what I speak by now?"

* * *

Percy nodded slowly again, back in the little room. Again, that wash of shame flooded him and his cheeks reddened although no-one was around to see. How could he have been so blind back then? How couldn't he have seen the signs- Fudge's blindness to what he didn't want to know about. Mysterious deaths relegated to the back page. Sizable contributions to 'charity'. He snorted. He had been working for almost four months to prove the links between the Minister's office and the Daily Prophet. Bribe money. And a lot from the looks of it. Well, that report he had sent to the Knights was damning indeed. He let himself smile slightly as he contemplated the Minister getting what he deserved for his duplicity. His smile vanished again. But that wasn't the worst of it. Not by a long shot.

* * *

_Dammit…I hate to let a chapter go when I am not entirely happy with it. And I'm not really with this one. Plot exposition and backstory were never really my strongest points, I'm afraid. But the tempo will start picking up from here-on in! (Summer after OotP)_

Added note- Percy is twenty-one for this fic. I know he's only just finished school, but it's conceivable he would have perhaps started a bit later due to the First War

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_**Preview for Chapter Three- The Birthday**_

_"Hedwig- this is it. We're out of here!" he whispered to the snowy owl who looked at him disapprovingly. "Oh, don't look at me like that- it's really not my choice this time. I'm sixteen, of age- they've thrown us out." The owl's sharp yellow stare softened a bit and she hooted gently. Harry took one more glance around the room that at different times had been a refuge and a prison. Then he spun and walked out, face expressionless as he confronted his Uncle. _

…

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Well, please take amoment to tell me whether you liked this chapter or not, if not, where are the problems, was Percy too out of charater, whatever. Please? 


	4. 3: The Birthday

**Chapter 4**

**The Birthday**

_Not mine. Back, ye lawyers! Back! I wield my silver cross and garlic at you!_

**Thank-you to Velvet- Green, Labrat-Speedy and Cooldot for their kind reviews!

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**

Harry woke to his sixteenth birthday in a nervous frame of mind. He had no idea as to why he might be feeling particularly tense this early July morning. Well, okay, except for the Death-Eaters trying to kill him, Order members spying on him, seemingly from every nook and cranny in the street and…he forced the thought away but it crept in under his defences anyway- Sirius was gone. Had been gone for almost three months now.

He flopped back onto the bed and let the miserable thoughts wash over him- it wasn't like he'd ever been successful keeping them away. But, as usual, the thoughts came tempered by anger. Confused and undirected anger at the moment, but anger all the same. Anger at himself most of all- it **was **his fault, no matter how many times people told him it wasn't. Anger at the headmaster who'd always let him in on the snippets of information- feeding him what he thought Harry needed to know, not trusting him with the full story. If he had- he he'd known the link could be used in such a way…if he'd known! _You'd have screwed it up anyway…._ a nasty little voice told him. It sounded like a mix between his Aunt Petunia and Professor Snape. He shuddered in mild revulsion at the idea. There are some things of which no man should wot. And that notion was -he swallowed his nausea- definitely one of them.

_Weren't we having a pity party for ourselves then, Potter?_ came the irritating voice again as he succeeded in steering away from the irrelevant thoughts, but this time Harry was ready for it. Yes, he'd made mistakes. Yes, unfortunately, _he _hadn't been the one to pay for them- Sirius had. But, no! He wasn't entirely responsible. Many people bore part- blame. Dumbledore, Snape; for his childish mocking, _Kreacher_ (here his fists clenched of their own will) and, though it had taken him this long to accept it, even Sirius himself. It had finally taken his old DADA teacher, Remus Lupin, to make him see past the soul-sucking guilt. Sirius was brave, rash and impulsive. But he was an adult. He shouldn't have responded to Snape's adolescent prodding.

Sometimes, it seemed to Harry, no-one involved in this whole mess was mature enough to run a sweetstore, let alone a last-ditch bastion of the forces of Light.

* * *

His aunt's voice howled up the stairs at him and he winced. Did she have to do that? But his legs swung out of the narrow cot-affair and the rest of him followed. Downstairs, unpleasantness lay, so he might as well make the most of his few minutes of freedom. 

Downstairs, unpleasantness did indeed lie. Or sit, anyway, in the form of his relatives. As they scowled at or ignored him, as their personalities dictated, he again briefly wondered exactly whom had he pissed off so in his last life that so many people seemed to have it in for him in this one.

"Good morning." he forced himself to mutter. Good manners had been drilled into him. Pity they had never been drilled into Dudley, or that his Aunt and Uncle couldn't practise what they preached.

"It is. Aunt Marge is coming to stay." Aunt Petunia delivered this bit of news with her lemon-juice mouth screwed up even tighter then usual, each word delivered like a bullet. Oh goody. But at least it looked like someone else shared Harry's opinion of the obnoxious woman. Or maybe it was Ripper Aunt Petunia wasn't too fond of. He could sympathise with that feeling!

"Right", he muttered again, feeling that some response should be made. But no amount of politeness could force even a smidgen of fake joy into his tone.

"Mind your manners!" barked Uncle Vernon, rising from behind the newspaper like a vengeful, fat and ugly Aphrodite from her shell.

Aphrodite in a mid-life crisis, perhaps..

'Aphrodite' glanced at Harry and then at the calendar.

"Petunia, pet. It's Friday today, isn't?" he managed, the beginnings of a smile forming beneath the florid moustache.

"It is", she replied, lips curling.

"Dudley, my lad", boomed Vernon expansively, putting down his paper. "Today's your lucky day!" Harry suddenly felt like this was not going to be good news for him.

"Why's that, Dad?" asked Dudley, his piggy eyes looking even more gormless then usual. He was taking up an entire side of the table by himself and threatening to invade the side that his father generally sat at. He would probably find that a losing battle, Harry mused idly; Uncle Vernon was as big as his son.

"Today, you get back your bedroom!" Harry's eyebrows shot up- he wasn't allowed forget that he was here entirely on the noble sufferance of the innocent Dursleys, nor that he took up what was Dudley's by right. So where was he going?

"Boy." Now Vernon and Dudley both were staring at him with identical piggy eyes. The effect was somewhat disturbing. "It is your birthday today. Sixteen, yes?" Harry nodded slowly, already half-seeing where this was going. "That means you are now of age and no longer our ward. Now get out. Join your freaky friends, I don't care. Only get OUT and leave US alone!"

Harry glanced at Aunt Petunia, not really expecting any help, if anything, mildly surprised she hadn't said anything. She was washing dishes mechanically but seemed to sense his glance.

"Leave, Harry", she finally said quietly.

* * *

He left the kitchen, turning on his heel and going upstairs in a daze. Quickly he packed his meagre Muggle belongings and then his Wizarding things- school stuff, for the most part. It took no more then a few minutes. He pulled up the floorboard that had been his helper and ally for almost five years now and took out his birthday presents from his friends. Hermione's- a book, of course- but this one looked pretty cool, and would be a huge help if the DA was continued this year. Ron's family had sent a package and Ron and Ginny had sent a present each as well. Hagrid had sent some of his famous rock- cakes, which Harry could use in the event of starvation. Or a siege. They'd would work quite well in a trebuchet. 

"Hedwig- this is it. We're out of here!" he whispered to the snowy owl who looked at him disapprovingly. "Oh, don't look at me like that- it's really not my choice this time. I'm sixteen; of age- they've thrown us out." The owl's sharp yellow stare softened a bit and she hooted gently. Harry took one more glance around the room that at different times had been a refuge and a prison. The he spun and walked out, face expressionless as he confronted his Uncle.

"Got all your…stuff?" finished his uncle, glaring unpleasantly at Harry. Harry nodded stiffly and hauled his trunk down the stairs to the front door. He stopped just in front of it and turned to face his 'family'. There was one last thing to do…

"Thank-you for the house-room", he said mockingly. His Uncle swelled up, looking rather like he was about to blow. Harry stared at him coolly, suddenly no longer afraid in the least of the large man. He kept eye contact with Vernon as he continued, wand in hand now.

"For fifteen years, you have been my 'guardians'. You didn't want it. Well, neither did I. I lived in a cupboard for ten years! You locked me in for a good portion of that. You only let me have a room out of fear of my friends. You constantly belittled me, humiliated me and showed me nothing but hatred and contempt. There is a word for all that, even leaving aside the bars on the windows and the malnourishment in the summer after first year- it's called 'child-abuse' and imagine what your precious neighbours would say about that?"

He took a certain amount of pleasure in the way his Aunt's eyes flickered fearfully to the curtains as if hordes of neighbours were listening from behind the drapes and taking notes. He continued.

"What else? You encouraged Dudley to follow your example." Here he let his eyes wander across the rest of his 'family'. "And can I say, you've abused him almost as much as me by spoiling him", he added almost offhandedly. Here Vernon growled and seemed almost ready to pounce but was having trouble moving. Harry raised the wand in warning. "You told me lies about my parents, tried to make me believe they were worthless- your own sister, Aunt Petunia! When in fact they died fighting one of the evilest people who have ever existed. You are bigots and racists of the worst sort and I am as relieved as you that I'm finished here. Thank-you again for the house room."

With that, and silently congratulating himself on the speech he had been mentally composing for about ten years now, Harry opened the door and stepped out into the early morning air. Hedwig flew out over his head before coming back to settle on his shoulder.

He petted her with a shaking hand.

"Well, that's that, girl." he murmured. "Although, I'm glad I got the last word for once!"

* * *

He walked towards the gate with his trunk, moving as silently as possible, keeping a sharp eye out of danger. It felt a bit silly, almost, on the bright July morning to be looking out for agents of the Dark but he'd lived too long in it's shadow to ever feel safe. He wasn't sure he'd ever known the meaning of the word. 

"Now, where are the Aurors?" he asked Hedwig. "I know for a fact there's always at least one lurking around here. What do you think, girl?" Hedwig didn't seem inclined to offer a response so he sat on the wall for a moment, while he tried to decide what the best course of action was.

"Wotcher, Harry!" came a rather surprised sounding voice behind him. He smiled with a certain amount of relief. Tonks. He half- turned. From behind the wall, a hedge appeared to be addressing him. His eyes managed to pick out the green hair pretending to be leaves and his eyebrows went up slightly.

"Like the new look, Tonks." he said. "Next big thing?"

"All the rage in fashionable London." she joked back before her hair changed to neon blue and she stepped out of the undergrowth with a frown.

"You're not supposed to be out here." she began, before spotting the case at his feet. Her eyebrows shot up and she half-opened her mouth.

"Not my idea this time." he said laconically. "Sixteen, no legal obligation, thrown out."

Her mouth snapped shut and her eyes glinted furiously but she didn't say anything.

"Come on Harry- let's get you to HQ." she said rather more gently. "It's…"

"…not safe out here, I know," he finished rather coolly. He knew it was unfair but he couldn't help but take some of his anger out on the nearest Order representative. He had been kept in the dark all summer, apart from oddly worded letters every once in a while, as if Ron, Ginny and Hermione were having to be very careful in what they wrote. He was also rather unfairly blaming them for being able to be together in Grimmauld Place while he was stuck in that hellhole with the Dursleys. Although…Grimmauld Place…did he really want to be there? It was Sirius' home. And now it's owner was dead. He suddenly realised he really didn't want to go there. He was overcome by a wave of sudden panic. Harry wondered for a crazy instant if he couldn't run back into No. 4 and beg to be allowed stay for another few weeks. That thought was quashed instantly.

"I'm sorry, Harry." said Tonks, correctly guessing at his thoughts. "But that's the only place that's safe now. We don't know if the Burrow's been compromised and with …this place…" Here she threw a filthy look at the window of the house in question. Harry followed her gaze and saw a curtain swaying slightly.

"Just…is that…_Kreacher _still there?" he asked, the intensity of his voice surprising even him. But he couldn't look at that, that **_elf_**- if he did, he might well be tempted to strangle him.

"No, Harry." she replied. "He, well, he died. Not long after…well… His guilt at betraying a member of his House, his age, the fact that… Sirius, the last true Black, was dead…" She shrugged. "Heart-attack, we think. He's dead."

Harry nodded slowly. He looked at the face of his normally cheerful friend and was struck again that Tonks and Sirius had been related.

"Are you doing alright?" he asked her, realising he hadn't yet.

"Yeah, I'm doing alright." she lied. "Come on, we have to go. Here." She presented him with a sock. "Operating word's '_Sanctus'. _**I'll **follow on in a minute." From the way she was gripping her wand and scowling, Harry could guess what she might be doing for the next minute.

"Don't do anything…too permanent." he joked. "Think of the neighbours." The joke finished on a rather bitter tone. Embarrassed, he gripped the sock (one of Dumbledore's notions, no doubt), and muttered _Sanctus _with his cheeks rather pinker then normal.

Tonks watched him go with well- hidden pity which turned to malevolent fury as she turned her gaze onto the innocent-looking house in front of her. She'd always been rather fond of Harry and was prepared to take a lot of quite inventive revenge on the people who'd hurt him, who'd cared more about the neighbours opinion then their ward.

Damn them.

She advanced on the house.

* * *

Harry arrived sick to his stomach. He'd never been too fond of Portkey travelling, and the events of the Triwizard tournament had made this form of travel particularly abhorrent. 

He looked up when he'd stopped spinning and took in the surroundings, both so familiar and so different, and promptly threw up.

* * *

_Poor Harry. Rather happier with this chapter then with No. 2. But next up is Percy and we'll see what _he's _up to in the bleak mid summer!_

_Oh, and I'm not sure yet whether to show Tonks' 'inventive revenge' against the Dursley's- d'ye want to know or will I leave it to your imaginations?

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_

_Next chapter! _

_**The Meeting**_

_Thomas- he had finally introduced himself- had appeared late one May night and asked if Percy would be so kind as to visit a certain pub in Muggle London at nine o'clock on Friday to talk with the Preceptor of the Knights. Percy was no fool, however. Thomas had shown himself to be ruthless in his dealings and Percy wasn't so sure that he might be seen as an obstacle- a wild card, who knew about them but was not fully loyal to them. He wasn't so sure that if he walked into that pub with no preparations he would walk out again._

_It was becoming easier and easier to just disappear lately.

* * *

_

_**And Merry Christmas! (Except to the characters in this fic- I'm having too much fun traumatising them! Mwahahaha…ahem…)**_

Please please (shameless begging here) review! Tis the season an' all... (big puppy-dog eyes)

AZ


	5. 4: The Meeting

**_Chapter 4_**

_**The Meeting

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**_

_Okay, right, sort out this timeline business once and for all. This fic is AU by a year in that I've had the major row between Percy and the Weasleys happens before Half-Blood Prince, rather then OOP. And it's AU from there-on in._

_The Prologue is set around March, before the summer of HBP. Chapter 1 is a flashback to Christmas (of OOP) before Sirius' death. Everything else is four months after and on from the Prologue (so around July forward)._

_Okay- sorry for not being clear about that before._

_**Extra note- looking through the books, it appears to say only that Harry's birthday is at the end of July so for this I've made it July 30th.

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**_

_**July 31**_

_He was meeting the leader of the Order tonight. _

He dressed with hands slightly shaking with emotions ranging from excitement to fear to fury. Percy stopped tying his bootlaces for an instant as he wondered how this was going to go. Thomas- he had finally introduced himself- had appeared late one July night and asked if Percy would be so kind as to visit a certain pub in Muggle London at nine o'clock on Friday to talk with the Preceptor of the Knights. Percy was no fool, however. Though a generally pleasant, chatty individual, Thomas had shown himself to be ruthless before in his dealings and Percy wasn't so sure that he might be seen as an obstacle- a wild card, who knew about them but was not fully loyal to them. He wasn't so sure that if he walked into that pub with no preparations he would walk out again.

It was becoming easier and easier to just disappear lately.

Which was why, concealed in his robes, he had an (entirely illegal) emergency portkey, his wand readily accessible in his sleeve and a small selection of prototypes- half-forgotten products of his brothers' inventive minds. He had found a stash of them when he was moving out, before any this had started. They were the ones he'd confiscated and then forgotten about. He didn't know why he'd decided to bring them, a whim, he supposed, but one he was now very thankful for. _These _ones wouldn't cause harm, the effects- bright lights, loud noises- would be explainable to Muggle bystanders, and they would give him a certain advantage if it came to making a run for it. That he'd made an illegal Portkey was a source of some worry to himself but he decided eventually that if he didn't need it that it need never be known and if he did need it, it would probably have saved his life. On top of all this, he'd placed a temporary hair- changing charm on the too-noticeable red mop and was planning on being there several hours early.

* * *

He sat in the Muggle pub and nervously sipped at the orange juice that he'd ordered to calm his nerves and give him something to do. He was seated in a corner, close enough to a group that at first glance he looked to be part of them, far enough that they didn't react curiously to his crowding them. He watched the patrons- loud Muggles, chatting, laughing and one group in a corner singing to the accompaniment of a man with a fiddle. 

Several years ago, he had been given a gift for which he was now more grateful then ever. It had been almost a joke, this gift from Penelope after he'd told her about his dream to work in the Ministry. Since then what had once been a Foe- Concealer had lurked in a drawer in his desk and then in the shed at home while he worked on it. He had been working on it for a month or two- since he had started this spying business. Now it had several charms on it to make it even more sensitive. He tapped it with his wand and it glowed a soft blue. He frowned at it and placed it in his lap, hidden by the table. It wasn't quite ready yet -perhaps never would be- but this was it's trial run. It wasn't strong enough to pick up what wasn't actually directed at the person holding it, but if someone told a lie to Percy while he held the Detector, it would react. This was one good way to know if this mysterious Preceptor wanted to remove him from the picture or not. He just hoped all the glitches had been worked out…

By nine, his nerves were keyed up to the max as he covertly examined everybody who entered the small pub. He wondered if he was just being overly paranoid as he scrutinised a ten-year old who had come in with his parents. He decided that he probably was.

"No, keep looking- I know a certain Auror who would have hit that child with a **_Finite Incantatum _**by now."

Percy closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. Blast it! All his careful preparations! He opened them in time to see an elderly man sit down in the seat across from him. His jaw dropped.

"Lemon drop?" twinkled Professor Dumbledore.

He managed to haul his jaw back together before he dislocated it and examined the man in front of him more thoroughly.

"Wait…you're not…" he started as he noted some slight differences between this man and the one he'd known for all these years.

"Very good!" said this man. "My name is Aberforth Dumbledore. And, as you've probably gathered, Albus is my younger brother."

Aberforth Dumbledore really did bear a startling resemblance to his younger sibling. But now Percy came to really look at this man he noted slight disparities. Apart from the fact that Aberforth was wearing Muggle clothing -if golfing trousers and a fedora could be counted as such- this brother was taller and looked older, His eyes twinkled less and, although he looked good- humoured, his face bore more lines of weariness and even…pain? then did that of his brother. He also had a long white beard, although this one had two plaits in it, tied with multicoloured ribbons. Percy was prepared to bet that Aberforth was just as quirky and eccentric as the Professor.

"Likely so," agreed the other man with a smile. Percy wondered for a second if the man could read minds.

"No- only personalities. And I'm a good guesser," said the old wizard. "That's Albus' secret too," he added as an apparent afterthought. "Although I suppose I shouldn't give that away… I must commend you on your preparations by the way. You must always take care in such situations."

"It is not entirely my fault I'm **in **such a situation!" hissed Percy, fury reasserting over shock as the dominant emotion. He felt a tingling sensation on his arm and quickly damped down his emotions.

Aberforth looked at him gravely. "You're right," he said simply. "Thomas did you a bad deed when he did this to you- but you took on the Kindebts willingly- they cannot be forced. Now it up to you.

"You have been gathering information on us- I know you have!" -the last bit said with a certain amount of humour. Percy couldn't deny it. Once you knew what to look for, especially in the old filing rooms, deep under the Ministry. He had been spending a lot of lunch-breaks and overtime down in the dusty depths of the Ministry going through crumbling parchments, ancient reports and original drafts of laws, some of them no longer in use. He wanted to know what sort of people were using him.

"So what have you gleaned so far?" asked the old wizard with interest. Percy hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly. How much could he tell? Aberforth seemed to sense what was bothering Percy and he added "Don't worry, I ask merely to see how you've fared. I have no ulterior motives." The modified foe- glass/ lie-detector in Percy's hands protested the last comment by growing warm- as it should- and then letting out a beep- which it certainly shouldn't! Hell! He thought he'd sorted out that glitch! Talk about warning the man! Aberforth, nothing if not quick, flushed slightly.

"Don't you?" Percy asked as calmly as possible.

"I apologise," said the older man. "I didn't intentionally lead you astray. I meant, I did not ask you with the intention of injuring you- or worse- if you knew too much." The lie-detector stayed cool but Percy didn't let himself relax.

_"Do you mean me or my family harm?"_

Aberforth's eyes met Percy's unwaveringly. "I do not. Nor does any member of the Order _as things stand at the present time._" He held up a hand. "By that I mean that the Knights are soldiers, warriors. We are fighting Voldemort and those allied to him. If you or your family become allied with Voldemort then we are against you." The words were not said as a threat and Percy didn't bristle at the implications as much as his younger siblings might have.

"Alright." He paused to fully collect his thoughts and his voice unconsciously took on the rather preachy tone his brothers detested. "I've learned you are an ancient Order, dating from the time of the Pendragon. He set it up, of course- the Knights of the Round Table. Knights, protection and Round, equality. Two hundred and fifty Knights, divided into twelve Chapters. The names of the Preceptors are legend- Galahad, Lancelot, Bedivere, all of those. Then there were the Three- the joint leaders of the Order. Pendragon, the Queen and the Wizard- Merlin. Learned quite a lot about that time- all that in Muggle histories that can be proven by our own. They acted as…peacekeepers, lawgivers and were part of the Crown. The fifteen top posts stayed the same although the people to fill them changed of course. Five hundred years after the fall of the original Pendragon things were getting bad. The Ministry which had been set up by then, no longer used the Knights as they should do and there was only a Wizard to keep control over the Chapters instead of the full Three. The Wizard- Nore Damus, withdrew the Knights from under the Ministries' control and brought them underground. Since then they have remained undercover, their presence known of by only a few. The Minister of the time declared them outlawed and they remained so -including the most famous one- Robin Wood, whose descendents live in Britain today. A later Minister annulled their outlaw status after their part in the Goblin Wars and gave them special liberties outside the Law under some very strict rules."

Aberforth nodded slowly, removing his own glasses as Percy took a drink of orange to wet his throat again.

"Well researched indeed as for history. The Pendragon and Merlin you have right, but the 'Queen' was actually Morgana Le Fay rather then Ganhumara, Arthur's wife. Ganhumara, or Guinevere lead one of the chapters, called rather confusingly the Queen's Chapter. As you may have guessed I am the 'Wizard' of the Knights, now called simply the Preceptor. The line of the Pendragon and Guinevere and that of Morgana Le Fay is lost and the Three that should lead the Knight is down to one. Hopefully someday that can be changed, the lost bloodlines restored. But go on. What have you found under the Ministry regarding us?"

"Very cryptic. Rarely mentioned by name although you do crop up- usually as a military presence in times of national trouble, the Goblin Wars, the Giant Wars- last mention I found was about the Grindlewald era. Suggested as having helped Professor Dumbledore defeat him."

The older man nodded, looking with a certain amount of respect at the younger. "Very well done indeed. Especially as much of the information about us as possible as removed from the ministry vaults. You must have gone through there with a fine-tooth comb to get that information. But you always are very thorough- I have been reading your reports. It's been the only times I've been glad of Thomas'…less sympathetic streak. They've been invaluable to us. We suspected for long time that Fudge has been paying off some of the top newspapers. "Percy, we are going to discredit Fudge. We're going to remove him from office and get him replaced with someone competent. You know why this is imperative, don't you?"

Percy nodded slowly.

"Because he's seeking an alliance with V…_him_," he whispered quietly. Aberforth nodded.

"Yes. Through his own cowardliness and lust for power, he is prepared to make a deal with the devil. He will sell us all into Voldemort's hands. _He must be stopped. _But you have been invaluable to us already. I could not, in good conscience, ask you to do more. Discrediting Fudge will have to be done publicly and loudly- people must be left in no doubt as to his guilt. And it will be dangerous to those involved -make no mistake about it- if Fudge feels cornered he will bite. And his bite has proved fatal in the past, as I'm afraid, your colleague Bertha Jorkins found." At Percy's surprised look, he explained. "She knew even more then she told- some things that would have been dangerous to Fudge. Did you not think it strange that Fudge waited so long before sending anyone out? He knew there was no point and wanted to leave enough time fore her body to be hidden some place where it would never tell it's tale of treachery. But even past Fudge, if this attempt succeeds the people involved will become immediate targets for both Fudge's supporters and those on the Dark side." He sighed and glanced down at his drink before looking up at Percy again.

"We have one or two operatives in the ministry, but none as close to the Minister as you. We could really use you in this. I have no right to ask you, not after how we've treated you but I must. Will you help us, willingly? Will you join the Knights and help us defeat Voldemort and other magical threats to this country and outside?" Percy sat there, floored slightly.

"I don't really have a choice." he said slowly. "With these marks on my arm…I have to repay the debt."

Aberforth shook his head. "There are other, less-dangerous ways of repaying that debt. We are one of Wizard-kinds best known secrets, the Wizarding Army, and we are pledged to defend all people- muggle and wizard alike. We need volunteers, not the coerced. That's what Thomas didn't understand."

"Can I think about it? And also…" Here he looked at the wizard with something like pleading in his eyes. "Can I tell my family? My parents at least. The row I had to have…this estrangement…I understood the reasons but…this is a war. And my family, because of their name and Harry Potter are in the centre of it. Any of us…any of them could be hurt or …or worse at any time. If something was to happen…I couldn't bear it if they all thought I hated them…if they all hated me…I don't have to make a production out of it…I can still be estranged as far as the Ministry is concerned…"

Aberforth looked at him with pity and not a little sorrow in his eyes. "That was for your protection and theirs…but I fear it has caused more harm then good. I was going to release you from that burden anyway. Talk to your family." He paused. "You can't avoid talking about the Knights entirely, but be circumspect. I know about the Order of the Phoenix- your family obviously know how to keep a secret. And my brother knows -theoretically- about the Knights although we have little contact. But he should support you." Here his eyes clouded over slightly before he continued. "Contact me tomorrow and tell me if you want to join us. Make no mistake, we are a military order and you will have to go through rigorous training. You will have to be away from your family for long periods and you will not infrequently be ordered to do things which are dangerous and possibly verging on the illegal- such as going through secret files searching for information with which to discredit the Minister for Magic…" Here Percy blushed slightly. "Remember, Bertha Jorkins knew too much and died for it. Her fate could easily be any of ours. It could be yours. It is tough- but well worth it. Give me you answer tomorrow."

He got up to go but Percy called him back. "Wait! How can I contact you?"

"Your owl, Hermes, knows where to find me." With that, the man slipped between the crowds of people and…was gone. Percy sagged back on the bench, only realising now how keyed up he'd been through that. He felt like he'd just sat through the toughest interview conceived. He snorted quietly, wryly. In a way, he supposed he had. His left hand moved unconsciously to grip his right elbow. He was still Bonded- still had to repay the Kindebts and now this. If he joined, perhaps he could…what? Save Thomas' life or something? Or something, maybe. Also…he'd joined the Ministry for several reasons of which personal ambition was only one. An important one, yes, but still only one. He wanted to make a difference. Well, he'd joined and what had he found? A body of wizards too self-absorbed and cowardly to accept the danger to the whole of the wizarding world. Led by a man he's used to practically worship! And Cornelius Fudge was the worst of the lot. He'd set up several private meetings between Fudge and one Lucius Malfoy. The oh-so-respectable Death Eater that had tried to kill him and kidnap his siblings. He'd forced himself not to react the first time he'd met him after the attack beyond that polite greeting that had nearly choked him. Malfoy'd probably thought he'd escaped unrecognised. But that sneering voice and those ice-chip eyes had burned their way into Percy's mind along with every other detail of that night. He'd played the enthusiastic, but slightly dumb assistant to the hilt whenever Malfoy was around, all the while resisting the incredible urge to punch that aquiline nose. He was fairly sure he'd succeeded (and confirmed the snobbish man's impressions of his entire family while he was at it). Malfoy sneered at him automatically as he passed him but seemingly dismissed him as being beneath notice.

But meeting Lucius Malfoy, while suspicious, did not alone make Fudge an ally (or patsy, more like) of Voldemort. Percy had racked his brains for ways to find out the particulars of these meetings. Offers to take minutes unsurprisingly didn't go down too well, making Fudge look nervous enough to even put the dopey assistant Percy pretended to be on guard. If he'd cared at all about Malfoy's impression of him, he would have been embarrassed. Then he'd come up with the notion of using his brothers' (admittedly genius) Extendable Ears to listen to conversations. He'd felt a bit of a hypocrite using them after all the times he'd given out to the twins over them, but he shrugged philosophically.

_**If they could see me now...**_ _he'd thought once as he transcribed every word spoken next door in feverish shorthand. The first few times hadn't been too successful. Some phrases, such as 'have an understanding?' and 'must not get out, you understand Lucius? It could…ruin my career…people wouldn't understand…" while interesting, were not incriminating._

_And then the one which had given him evidence, solid evidence._

_"My Master is doing what's best for pure-blood wizardry all over the world. Institutions such as Hogwarts, while fine places, of course, place too much emphasis on the Muggle side of things- they teach Muggle Studies! And half-bloods…well, they happen even in the best of families, but for such families as you and I Minister… My Master is not necessarily working at cross-purposes to you, Minister. The… alliance between the Ministry…" Percy, sleeves rolled up to better write, barely breathing as he took down every word, was crouched down with the Ear extended into an air vent, conveniently hidden from the door by his desk. So he nearly had a heart-attack as the aforementioned door swung open._

_He managed to sort out whoever it was- a lost intern apparently, who'd gotten the wrong office, more then irritated at missing possibly vital bits of the conversation next door._

_Sure enough, by the time he'd returned the meeting next door was just wrapping up and Percy could have kicked himself for having missed it. Or kicked the intern._

But that was the first time he'd really believed his now tarnished idol was really up to something devious, he thought as he sat in the pub. Well, more serious then the run-of-the-mill deviousness that often seemed to be a requirement for working in public office. The notes were duplicated and a copy passed on to the Knights. After careful thought, he'd encrypted another copy and placed it in his Gringotts bank vault. He'd done some fairly complex enchantments to make it appear to be an old book of medium value- an heirloom, perhaps. If this should go horribly wrong and get him killed, the book, and all the proof it contained, would be sent to Albus Dumbledore.

Now, he stood up and walked out of the pub, still thinking about the offer but paying more attention to his surroundings. The Lie-detector had only beeped the once and Aberforth had explained his 'ulterior motives'- he wanted Percy in the Order proper, of his own will. He'd been very straight-forward about the risks and rewards. He'd made it perfectly clear that as a member Percy would be subject to the Preceptor as his leader and he would be taking part in, well, in a coup, basically. Removing Fudge from power. And if that went wrong...well, the punishment for treason in a time of war was straightforward. Life in Azkaban for relatively minor offences, Dementor's Kiss for major. He had no doubt which Fudge would go for considering how much information was gathered against him only Percy could prove- under Veritaserum for example. He shuddered slightly. No, this would bear definite thinking about. But first…he had to go see his family. He hoped they would at least hear him out.

* * *

_**Chapter 5**_

_**The Incident**_

_"…just trying to protect us, Ron," finished Hermione. Ginny rolled her eyes and moved away slightly from the blast radius of Mt Ron before he exploded. Harry watched with a slight sense of foreboding. Ron had shot up and was staring at Hermione incredulously. _

_"Protect us! What do you mean 'protect us?' When are they going to figure out that they **can't **protect us!" _

* * *

You know the drill, pleasereview if you read! Thanks! 

AZ


	6. 5: The Incident

**Chapter 5**

**The Incident**

_Not mine, property of the great JK Rowling.

* * *

_

_July 30 (the day before)_

Harry was only relieved that the entire Weasley clan wasn't there to witness his humiliation as the world stopped spinning and what little food he'd had made a reappearance. Only motherly Molly Weasley was in the kitchen and although perhaps mildly surprised to have an ill teenager suddenly appear in her kitchen, it was by no means out of her experience. She dropped what she was doing immediately and was at Harry's side in an instant, _Scourgify_ing the mess almost absently as she passed concentrating on the boy. She saw a too-thin child that she'd so often wished was one of her own, standing there in clothes too big for him and a rather hangdog expression. She could only imagine that his relatives wouldn't have been too sympathetic to his illness had he thrown up at home and once again wished she could do something nasty to them all. At his automatic flinch when she appeared beside him, she had to push away her budding fury at the Muggles and sat him down. There was just something about him that made her want to mother him.

"There now, sit down Harry and I'll get you something to eat. It was just the travelling." She bustled away and returned impressively quickly with chicken soup and toast. Chicken soup was a great comforter and easy on the stomach.

"Thank-you," said Harry, with that smile that made it a pleasure to help him, she thought fondly. Really, how those muggles could treat such a sweet child the way they did! It was disgraceful. She was glad he was out of there. That reminded her.

"Harry, why are you here? Not that your not always welcome, but did something happen? And where's Tonks? She should be watching Privet Drive?" Harry, who had started eating, lost his appetite again with those words.

"I…It's my sixteenth birthday today…." he said quietly. "They've thrown me out."

"Oh, Harry!" she sighed, dropping into another chair, eyes shining with pity. This in her tone made Harry stare furiously at the tablecloth as it brought his own feelings dangerously close to the surface. _Stop being ridiculous Potter! _he ordered himself. _You never liked them, they never liked you, why on earth are you feeling upset? You never have to go back to Privet Drive again! _Sure enough, that did make him feel better enough that he could meet Mrs. Weasley's eyes.

"Sorry…" he muttered, before continuing. "It's not too bad anyway…it was just unexpected, I guess. Though I don't know why I didn't see it coming…" He shook his head angrily at himself.

"It's hard anyway, and it's perfectly all right to be upset! Don't you apologise for _that_! It's them that…" Now she shook her head angrily.

"Where's Tonks?" she asked worriedly. She hoped the girl hadn't done anything stupid like… Harry had flushed a bit, obviously hoping he wouldn't be asked. He didn't want to get the Auror into trouble.

"Ahh…she had to stay behind a minute…" he temporised. Molly sighed, _…like that… _she thought but couldn't bring herself to even think a reprimand towards the young woman. She might have been tempted to dole out a bit of retribution on those…people herself had she been in her shoes.

"Er…hiya Harry. Um…hello Molly…" Tonks suddenly looked a bit sheepish and her hair faded from angry red spikes to a more sober blue. She obviously hadn't quite thought this bit through. Molly had a sudden urge to laugh at the expression but forced a glare at the young woman who wilted noticeably.

"And why didn't you bring poor Harry through yourself? Where did you run off to? We're not going to have a repeat of the Mundungus fiasco are we?" Here her mouth did compress into a thin line as she thought with irritation about the unreliable Dung. She obviously hadn't quite forgiven him yet. Harry looked anxiously up at the short woman who was almost physically vibrating as she upbraided the sheepish Tonks. He gaped slightly as Molly very deliberately winked at him as she continued her lecture without pausing for breath.

Tonks was saved by the entrance of the twins at this moment.

"Harry!"

"How…"

"wonderful"

"to"

"see"

"you"

"old"

"boy!" they alternated in fake upper-class accents.

"After all,"

"a new"

"victim"

"ahh...customer, only joking Mum!"

"is always welcome!" they finished in a rush, watching their mother for signs of imminent eruption. Harry tried not to laugh at their antics, half-afraid of setting Mrs Weasley off again. Tonks took the opportunity to edge her way out the door, her hair turning neon pink as she narrowly avoided collision with a small tribe of people who piled in, laughing.

"Hiya Tonks. Hiya Harry," said one, a tall red-haired boy of Harry's own age.

"Hiya Ron," he replied nonchalantly, waiting for the moment to sink in.

"Mum…" there was a brief pause as the last few seconds filtered through. The other members of the group, who had been behind him, were rather quicker on the uptake.

"HARRY!" chorused both Ginny and Hermione with delight and made a leap for him. There was just enough time for his expression to change from happiness at seeing his friends to almost comic panic before they landed on him. The twins didn't help him as they laughed uproariously at the pained 'ooff' emitted from the squashed one before he was released in time to confront a now up-to-date Ron.

"Harry! When did you get here? Why are you here? Great to see you mate," He added in a confidential whisper; "The twins are using me as a testing platform and Hermione and Ginny keep…" (here he gulped) "…_girl talk_... Thank-you for another sensible person in this house!"

_Thwack_

_"_Oww…" he grumbled, glaring at his sister who looked back innocently.

"Yeah, so why are you here?" chimed in George, ignoring the off-pitch antics with ease of long practice. Harry paused for a second and Molly was about to jump in before he continued.

"Sixteen's legal age- the muggles have thrown me out," he admitted. He found the words easier to say this time. Fred whistled.

"Hard luck…or is it? At least you're out of there."

Harry nodded, feeling a bit more cheerful at this analysis.

"Yeah, that's true."

"Harry, dear, are you finished with the soup?" asked Molly. Harry looked down, surprised to see he'd finished the bowl. He thanked her and she smiled before shooing the entire tribe out the door with injunctions to 'stay out of mischief' and 'don't disturb Mrs. Black!'. Harry felt that in any group including the twins the first was rather a forlorn hope, but remembering the banshee wail of the bad-minded portrait, he resolved to obey the second carefully!

They practically tip-toed through the hall eyeing the sheeted frame apprehensively, but made it past successfully. They retreated upstairs and ended up in the largish room the girls shared, it being the closest.

"Well, we're off," said one of the twins, not bothering to enter the room as the others settled themselves on whatever surfaces were available. "Nice to see you, Harry."

"Are you going to blow more things up?" asked Ron warily. The identical faces bore identical evil grins.

"Just remember to knock, little brother!" called back one of them as they vanished.

"I did knock, that was the problem!" shouted Ron after them, but didn't get a response. Harry looked enquiringly at Hermione as Ginny sniggered into a pillow she was hugging.

"Ron was sent up to tell the twins dinner was ready," the brown-haired witch explained. "He walked in just as something went boom. The twins were ducked behind something but Ron got covered in this…blue gloop that wouldn't come off," Her slightly disapproving expression melted slightly as she tried not to laugh.

"Anytime Mum tried to _Scourgify _it…it just got worse!" gasped Ginny, remembering the scene.

"And as for the Muggle way; it ate the cloths! He was stuck with it for about…what, ten hours? Sitting in the bath tub. When it finally melted off, his skin was bright blue," finished Hermione with a giggle she couldn't quite contain.

"I did knock- they did that on purpose…" Ron sulked, lying back. "Mum was pretty mad at them though," he smiled beatifically. "And it kicked off a prank war that nearly had Mum kill us all by the end of it," he grinned. Harry soon found himself laughing at the stories of some of the better practical jokes that had occurred before Molly Weasley had chased the pranksters out of the house with her wand and told them quite firmly that they could stay outside until they stopped turning her kitchen into a war-zone. Even when they'd declared truce she made them turn the large pink dodos back into the harmless cutlery they had been before she would give them dinner.

* * *

There were twelve of them seated around the once-fine dining-room table, which still bore the Black insignia beneath the tablecloth. There were the Weasleys of course, with the exception of the three eldest brothers, Harry, Hermione and Tonks, Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Dung, as there was to be an Order meeting that evening. Tonks was subdued again, having been soundly lectured by first Mad-Eye, then Shacklebolt and briefly Arthur on the… unfortunate instances that had befallen a certain Dursley family of Privet Drive. In the latter two cases an observer might have felt their hearts weren't in the scolding but Moody made up for lack of sincerity by ferocity. The twins had listened avidly to the list of things that had mysteriously happened to the Dursleys, taking notes and congratulating the berated culprit on imagination and flair.

"And we had to change that fat boy back from a pig! We had to catch him first and a merry chase he led us! He still speaks in squeaks and grunts half the time and I'm not so sure we got his eyes right. They still looked very piggy to me," recounted Shacklebolt to more laughter then the appropriate shock that would have suited Mad-Eye. But he kept his peace for once, even when Harry and Tonks in unison assured Shacklebolt that Dudley's eyes had always looked like that. He merely snorted and muttered something that sounded like "Constant vigilance," into his potato. Molly didn't lecture Tonks again but placed an extra large helping on her plate.

The 'children' were mightily disgruntled to be ordered out as people started arriving. Ron had opened his mouth to protest but Molly waved a soapy dishcloth at them.

"Not a word, Ronald Weasley!" she said, her voice rather higher pitched then normal. "I don't want to hear it. You're too young and, believe me, there will be plenty of time to…" she turned back to her washing up and scrubbed a plate with ferocious concentration. Nobody asked why she was doing the task manually instead of just using a household spell like she normally did.

"It's alright Molly," soothed her husband, looking meaningfully at the youngsters in the doorway. The twins decided (for once) not to push their luck either, although they would reach seventeen within the next week. They retreated upstairs, Ron in particular fuming, Ginny rather more resigned, Harry frustrated and Hermione apparently sanguine about the whole thing. She had known from the start that there was no way the adults were going to allow them to stay. But even so…

Ron flung himself down on the nearest bed with an irritated 'huff' noise. Harry leaned against the window ledge, watching people enter the house. His eyes narrowed as he saw his Potions master and that brought back the old pain as it hit him again where he was. It was probably just as well he didn't have time to brood on it though as he turned away from the window.

"…just trying to protect us, Ron," finished Hermione. Ginny rolled her eyes and moved away slightly from the blast radius of Mt Ron before he exploded. Harry watched with a slight sense of foreboding. Ron had shot up and was staring at Hermione incredulously.

_"Protect us! _What do you mean 'protect us?' When are they going to figure out that they can't _protect _us!" His face had gone very red and for an instant it struck Harry how much Ron resembled his older brother from that vision…dream…months ago, when the attack that…never happened…didn't happen. He frowned again. There was still something very weird about all that. But Ron was ranting.

"Between us, we've probably faced You-Know-Who's people in this war more then the whole of the Order put together! Well, okay, it's been mainly Harry facing _him_…but they couldn't protect us in first year when no-one would listen to us about the Philosopher's Stone. Result, if it weren't for Harry holding off Quirrell, he would have risen years ago. Second year…" Here he glanced at Ginny, who was hugging the pillow and looking more then a little uncomfortable with the subject. He belatedly remembered the nightmares that had woken her up screaming every night for a month that summer and cut off that thread quickly.

"Okay, third year, when they thought that…Sirius…" Now he glanced at Harry and winced again. "Okay, my point is that they've done a great job so far! Most of the time we got ourselves out of trouble."

"Not in the Ministry, Ron." Hermione was picking at a strand from the blanket with apparent fascination. She spoke quietly, making a point rather then being argumentative. Ron hesitated but acknowledged this.

"But if we'd been allowed know what was going on, that would never have happened," he finished inflexibly. Harry had to nod slightly. Perhaps he was right, perhaps not.

"My point is that we need to to …" He hesitated again. "Actually, I'm not sure," he admitted.

"Well, we can't join the meeting and find out what's going on so…we may as well discuss other things- like the DA. Is that continuing this year, Harry?" asked Hermione, closing down the previous topic firmly.

"I..guess so," replied Harry reluctantly. Hermione looked at him shrewdly.

"Are you blaming yourself for Luna and Neville being in the Ministry?" she asked. Harry opened his mouth to deny it and then flushed slightly. He shrugged angrily. "If it wasn't for the DA, they wouldn't have been there," he admitted.

"That's ridiculous, Harry," spoke up Ginny for the first time. "You can't possibly know that. However, if it hadn't been for the DA, they would have been much less able to defend themselves. The DA is a good idea and it has proved it's worth!" She glared at him. Harry nodded.

"Okay, I guess the DA is on this year then."

"Well, that's what we can be doing then," said Hermione firmly. "We can start planning out a…uh…plan for the DA this year. What Harry can teach, research useful spells, charms….hexes," she eyed Ron, knowing that the last might help erase the look that 'research' had put on his face. She was right. He brightened up a bit.

"Do you have that book I sent, Harry? There should be some stuff in that. And there's the entire Black library downstairs…" Her eyes went suddenly dreamy and Harry had to force himself not to laugh.

"Alright, I'm with you on that," he agreed. Ginny nodded and Ron, sighing a little at the inevitable word 'research' agreed too, rather trapped in his corner after his speech about not being allowed do anything.

* * *

Luckily, the Black library was nowhere near the rooms that the Order were taking up, so they were unlikely to get caught and have awkward questions asked. While what they were doing wasn't precisely against the rules…they wanted it kept that way.

"'_Hexes of Dark Renown',_" read Hermione dubiously. "Do we want it?"

_"_Put it into the secondary pile," suggested Harry. "Be useful to know what we might have to defend against, even if we're not learning the stuff." Hermione nodded and placed it into the towering pile beside her.

_"Popular Broomsticks,'_" read Ginny unwisely as both Ron and Harry craned their neck to get a look, resulting in Harry toppling from his perch and the stool that Ron was standing on to sway dangerously.

"I think we have enough now," said Hermione reluctantly, ignoring the two boys as she looked at the quantity of books they had collected.

"Hang on…" Ron leaned over dangerously to rootle in a top cupboard affair, one they hadn't searched yet. He pulled at a leathery green book that seemed strangely placed. It tilted out and a 'click' noise could be heard. It echoed around the suddenly quiet room. A grating noise. Ron froze. Harry, Hermione and Ginny had slowly turned to stare at the far wall. Then Ginny let out a squawk, echoed by Hermione's cry and Harry shouting, "Watch out!"

Ron heard skittering noises behind him and the three on the floor panicked as they tried to get up onto high ground. He was already on the stool but as he stared downwards, he suddenly wished he was a lot higher up.

Spiders…big, big spiders.

In fact, baby Acromantula.

They were scuttling towards the door- some had already escaped.

"We can't let them out- Ron! Close the wall!" Ron leaned over again, hoping the stool didn't deposit him into the morass of horrible creatures. As he scrabbled for the tilted book, the other three had gone on the offensive against the creatures.

"Hurry, Ron!" Hermione cried in a high voice. "_The parent's still in there!_" Nothing could have egged Ron on quite as much as that comment and he flailed wildly at the book, knocking it back into place. The rustling behind him from within the dark room he had inadvertently opened was getting louder. The spells -and books- being cast at the roughly tarantula-sized 'babies' were getting more frantic. Someone had had the presence of mind to hex the library door closed before they all escaped, so only the smallest ones were slipping under.

"_Petrificus arachnus!_" cried Hermione with a rather desperate-looking wave. Incredibly, it worked as all the evil-looking creatures froze, mid-flight. In the sudden silence, an ominous scratching could be heard from behind the wall. Then the library door swung open. The astonished eyes of about half the Order of the Phoenix beheld four teenagers, wands out, perched on various bits of furniture and (here, everyone backed up a bit) the entire floor covered with a wave of frozen baby Acromantula.

* * *

They were in disgrace, of course, as much for the fright they had given Molly Weasley as for any real wrong-doing. Grimmauld Place had to be abandoned for the night until the place had been thoroughly fumigated as none of the four could be entirely certain how many had escaped. And then of course, there was 'Mommy' behind the wall to take care of. Molly Weasley was adamant that she was not leaving her children in the same house as that monster (a sentiment with which Ron in particularly, whole-heartedly agreed). Ron, whose previous contact with Acromantula had made him no fonder of the species, had gotten quite a nasty shock and it took almost half an hour for his face to return to a normal colour. But it was agreed by those at the hastily broken-up Order meeting that the younger ones at least should be moved back to the Burrow, which should by now have enough defensive charms on it to hold off a siege if necessary. Snape had a particular potion which he volunteered (with very bad grace) to fetch. When rubbed on doorframes, etc, it should repel the little monsters. One of it's primary ingredients was Basilisk blood, harvested after a certain incident four years ago. But the escapee babies would have to be hunted down and as for the one behind the wall… the Order meeting was rescheduled for the next night that Grimmauld Place was useable. A fair chunk of the Order volunteered to cleanse the place of the magical spiders while Molly and Shacklebolt shipped the uncomplaining Gryffindors to the Burrow, Molly muttering all the way about how they'd been living next to those monsters all this time and how they were lucky that they hadn't all been eaten in their beds!

* * *

Harry lay awake on a hastily-constructed camp bad in Ron's blindingly orange room. Overall, he couldn't feel too upset about the change in living arrangements. He knew he'd have to go back to Grimmauld Place soon, have to sleep there (and would probably have many wakeful nights before that was possible), but he couldn't be upset that those moments were being suspended for a few days. Just until he'd gotten over the events of (was it only?) this morning. He was dealing. It would just take time. He rolled over, punching the pillow again before finally falling asleep with his glasses still digging into his nose.

* * *

It was really an amazing co-incidence. A night or two either way and none of them would have been at the Burrow when Percy came back to try and explain why he'd had to leave. One night either way, and so much could have been avoided. But, unfortunately, that wasn't to happen and there was to be a lot of pain and trouble for both sides before the consequences could be forgotten.

* * *

_**Chapter 6**_

_**The Accidental Eavesdropper**_

_But a life of incipient amphibianhood did not seem to be his fate as the last of the wards let him past. He released the breath and now saw the lights of the house. And heard voices. They took a moment or two to fade in but when the words made their way through his brain he was frozen._


	7. 6: The Accidental Eavesdropper

-1**Chapter 6**

**The Accidental Eavesdropper**

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**Sorry for the long hiatus. I now have a good bit written and know where I'm going with this monster of a thing. Assuming people like it, it's probably going to end up as a trilogy. So many plotbunnies, so little time... :)**

_brief refresher course_

_Percy, Ron and Ginny were attacked near their home by DeathEaters and rescued by a member of the Knights of the round Table, an ancient military order on the side of Light. Thomas healed Percy and claimed Lifedebts from the three. Percy took the Lifedebts of the two younger ones as Kindebts. Ron and Ginny have no memories of the incident. Pery started spying on the Ministry and it's dealing and gradually come over to the Knights' side, realising they were right in their suspicions of Fudge's dealings. In the last P-chapter, Percy met the mysterious Preceptor, Aberforth Dumbledore, who apologised and offered him either a way out or a way in- to join the Order properly. He told him to talk to his family and let him know._

_Meanwhile, Harry reached legal Age and was kicked out, taken in by the Weasleys. He feels guilty over te events in the Ministry and the whole DA business. Luna and Neville are both in danger after their parts in the MOM and are to stay with the Weasleys under the protection of the Order for a while._

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* * *

**

Percy had Apperated to Ottery St. Catchpole and decided to walk from the town to the house. The walk through the warm night would give him time to clear his head and think how to explain -and apologise- for the events of the last four months. Four months… and he did have reason to apologise too. The row had had to be convincing, it had been necessary for him to say the things that would hurt. And, an honest part of him admitted, they hadn't all been entirely false either. It was true that he had struggled against his father's reputation in the Ministry, had to work incredibly hard to gain his co-workers respect when they'd regarded him rather sneeringly for his fathers eccentricities. Not that they particularly disliked Arthur Weasley, but his fascination with Muggle artefacts, with Muggles really, had made him a bit of a well-known figure. Percy realised now that that shouldn't have mattered to him as much as it did at the time. And he had perhaps gone a bit overboard. Although if he had been found out then it would have come in useful. An obvious estrangement made his family less likely to come under suspicion from Fudge's people. He shook his head and looked around him, checking for anything suspicious. His nerves and senses had all been sharpened by the months of the keyed-up stress of his position and he now found himself almost automatic in these sweeps. Was that…? No, just a tree.

He tensed up as he passed the place where he and his younger sibs had been attacked that horrible night before Christmas when all this had started. His hand unconsciously went to his side where he knew he bore a long ugly scar. Thomas had saved his life with that healing spell but the mark would probably always remain. He steadfastly didn't look at the patch of grass beside the rock in the hedge where he had felt the blood flow out of him and that desperate impotence of not being able to do anything while his kid brother and sister faced the Death-Eaters. He still shuddered to think what would have happened to them had Thomas not shown up after a routine mission had brought him this way.

Now he could see the house. And the many wards around it. Spelled so certain people could pass. He wondered briefly if he were included. Those with Weasley blood probably were safe… he hoped! There were no lights in the house and he wondered for a moment…no, the wards and charms around the house were probably responsible for the darkness. He took a breath and, not realising he was holding it, stepped over the first ward, seriously hoping he wasn't going to spend the rest of his life as a frog or something…

But a life of incipient amphibianhood did not seem to be his fate as the last of the wards let him past. He released the breath and now saw the lights of the house. And heard voices. They took a moment or two to fade in but when the words made their way through his brain he was frozen.

His parents and a few others were in the kitchen, with the window cracked open on this suddenly stifling July night. It was hardly surprising that voices were emanating from the room, they were being said -and shouted- loudly enough.

"I'm sorry Molly, Arthur, but I know what I saw. And what Fudge's up to. He's made a deal with You-Know-Who's people. He couldn't have done it alone- most of his close people must be in on it with him, including staff. I have the proof that it was Percy who set up the meetings between Malfoy and Fudge. And…" Here the unrecognised voice faltered for a moment. "One of my people was sent to his office a few days ago. He saw the Dark Mark on his arm. I'm sorry, but that's the evidence we have."

Percy couldn't have moved had someone threatened to shoot him if he didn't. His hand went unconsciously to his elbow. What? How…that intern. But…how the hell could they mix up the Kinmarks and the Dark Mark for heavens sake?

_A newbie, bit self-important, lost his head,_ he supposed. Now there was shouting again inside the house. Upstairs, a curtain moved. He could distantly hear his mother protesting her disbelief. And then calm peaceful Arthur who was shouting. He only heard one line -it took a few seconds to filter through his stupefied brain, but when it did, it blocked out everything else.

"If he's gone to their side then he's no son of ours!"

* * *

Percy was to realise later, much later, that his father was reacting out of shock, pain and disbelief but now he could hardly think at all. He became conscious of fury welling up in him. His family believed the word of some newbie intern and…whoever this was over everything they knew about their own son. They believed he would abandon every measure of decency and morals that he had to go to Voldemort's side. And they had disowned him without giving him a chance to defend his supposed 'actions'.

Perhaps it would have been better had he lost his temper and stormed in to defend himself, proved the marks on his arm were not the Dark Mark. But sadly, that wasn't really Percy's way. He had never like direct confrontation and now his every instinct was to run away from the source of this new pain.

So he turned his back to the bright lights that he'd once been foolish enough to hope might welcome him and half-ran out of the familiar grounds, through the wards. He didn't care if they did alert them. After all, by their reckoning he was no longer a Weasley, was he? As soon as he was safely outside, he Apparated, trusting more to luck then judgement that he would get to his destination intact.

When he arrived -unsplinched- but trembling with shock and anger he called Hermes to him with a voice that only just didn't shake. He sat down at the desk and scribbled a terse note, tying it to Hermes leg after two tries, before opening the window for the softly hooting owl.

"Aberforth Dumbledore, Hermes. You know where he is?" The intelligent owl whistled again and flew silently into the night.

Percy, now he didn't have any task with which to busy himself, let himself drop back into the chair wearily. He looked at his watch. Eleven o'clock. All that had taken only two hours. Two hours ago he had been Percy Weasley, estranged from his family but seeking reconciliation. Half an hour ago he had been walking to his family's home. And a few minutes ago he had heard his character well and truly murdered and his family disown him. So who did that make him now? He glanced down again and his eye was caught by faint marks on the top sheet of a pile of parchment, where he had pressed too hard with the quill writing his message. It was still legible.

_Sir_, (he hadn't been quite sure how to address the older man so had fallen back on this ever- useful mode)

_I accept your offer to join the Knights. I will also take part in what we discussed earlier._

_Regards, P._

* * *


	8. 7: The intentional Eavesdroppers

**Chapter 7**

**The Intentional Eavesdroppers

* * *

**

It was a calm enough day. Most of it was spent outdoors playing two- a-side Quidditch in the garden. Occasionally the twins would come out and be an extra team of unbiased Beaters, whacking the Bludgers gleefully at members of both sides. That ended when Hermione had one close call too many and refused to play anymore. She'd had the bad luck of coming off her broomstick (Charlie's old _Cleansweep_), and landing in the oak tree, so she felt she had good reason. It was getting a bit grey overhead anyway and even as they trooped back into the Burrow the first big spots were starting to spatter downwards.

The four accidental mischief-makers of the day before retired to Ron's room to get the books they had smuggled to the Burrow while the other two not-so-accidental mischief-makers went to their own room to, well, come up with more mischief, more-then-likely. The small groupjust had time to shove some of the less-respectable ones under the bed as the door opened.

"Ron, Ginny, come here," Molly Weasley was standing in the doorway, hands twisting around each other, but her voice clear enough. "You too Harry, Hermione. Fred! George!" she leaned out to shout in the direction of the twins room. They leaned out and she motioned them over.

"Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood are coming to stay with us- in Grimmauld Place tomorrow." Ron opened his mouth to ask something but she continued.

"The…incident in the Ministry made them both targets for the Death-Eaters- Luna's home was attacked last night. Luckily, she and her father were out at the time but their house-elf was killed. Neville's a target too. His grandmother and Luna's father agreed to Professor Dumbledore's offer of protection. Luna's father has to leave the country anyway for a time- something to do with some animal or other and refused to come and Adelaide won't leave her home but insisted to poor Neville…So they're meeting us at the house tomorrow." Harry looked particularly guilty, Ron confused but not worried and the twins positively gleeful at having more 'test-subjects'.

* * *

"Well, it'll be handy for the DA anyway- more researchers. Hold on…" as a thought suddenly struck Harry. "Yesterday…when those Acromantula…we used spells. How come we didn't get any Howlers?" Ron looked puzzled too but Hermione, of course, had the answer.

"The charms used on Grimmauld Place were very complex. They hid the house from the outside world, both magic and Muggle. My guess is that there's so much shielding magic there that our spells didn't even register."

"Then we can practice for the DA there and not be noticed?" asked Ron doubtfully. Hermione frowned at this suggestion of flagrant rule-breaking. But honesty compelled her to nod reluctantly.

"As long as it's nothing major we should be okay. Especially if it's defensive spells we use. For some reason they have a much lower magical energy signature then offensive magic." She looked at the two boys who were staring in utter bewilderment at her, and the less-confused Ginny who, having shared a dormitory with Hermione, had heard at least some of this before.

"Honestly, don't…"

"…you two read?" chorused Ron and Harry, who had heard this particular admonishment before. Hermione sniffed but had to laugh.

"Exactly."

* * *

Dinner that night was a quiet affair compared to the night before but everyone seemed good-humoured enough and there was plenty of chatting and laughter. Mrs. Weasley put an almost Dudley-sized portion onto Harry's plate, saying they had to feed him up. Harry had as good an appetite as anyone, especially for Mrs. Weasley's food, but he eyed the portion with a certain amount of alarm. Ron and George helped him out by nicking his sausages when he wasn't looking (which only helped marginally). Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione tried to eat quickly so they could get back to their task, which even Ron had to admit wasn't so bad. They managed to escape reasonably quickly after washing their dishes at Hermione's insistence, protesting it wasn't fair to leave Mrs. Weasley with them.

* * *

Upstairs they settled back into their self-appointed work.

"Here's a good one…" Ron glanced across the illustration and his eyes popped. "Uh…maybe not…"

"How about the Persistent Floating hex?" asked Ginny.

"Ugh…only if you want Death-Eaters _flying around_ hitting you with spells," replied Ron with practiced elder-brother scorn. She shrugged it off and continued reading.

"Here's a good one if you can do it without being noticed. The backfiring wand hex. _Has the effect of causing all spells fired by the wand of the victim to backfire._" Hermione looked up, eyebrows raised.

"Good one. Is it difficult?" She glanced back down, lips pursed in thought. They could see her making a rather complicated pattern with an imaginary wand and mouthing something. "The incantation is a bit of a tongue twister but apart from that… Could be very useful." It was added to the list.

It was getting quite late and the four of them had more or less stopped researching and were just chatting idly when Fred tapped urgently on the door. Ron opened it and was dragged out bodily.

"Come on," hissed Fred, looking serious. Now the others could hear shouting from downstairs although they couldn't make out the words.

"In here!" The four bewildered Gryffindors saw George lying on the floor with a modified Extendable Ear pressed to the ground. There appeared to be a kind of trumpet attached to it. From it was issuing voices that they could all hear clearly.

_"I won't have it! There's no way it can be true- there must be some sort of mistake! " _Clatter

_"I'm sorry Molly, but there's no mistake, not this time."_

_"What proof can you possibly have against him!" _This one was almost a wail.

Harry was up against the window, Hermione beside him as they felt rather out of place in this family affair. He suddenly felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and carefully twitched the curtain open enough to look out of. Behind him, the talk continued to issue from the trumpet.

_"I'm sorry Molly, Arthur, but I know what I saw. And what Fudge's up to. He's made a deal with You-Know-Who's people. He couldn't have done it alone- most of his close people must be in on it with him, including staff. I have the proof that it was Percy who set up the meetings between Malfoy and Fudge. And…" _Upstairs they unconsciously held their breaths_. "One of my people was sent to his office a few days ago. He saw the Dark Mark on his arm. I'm sorry, but that's the evidence we have." _

Upstairs, there was dead silence before shouting erupted again through the trumpet. Harry nudged Hermione. She glanced at him and he gestured out of the window. She looked out and gasped with shock. Of all the moments…Percy Weasley was standing half-way up the path to the door, eyes glued to the kitchen window. In the artificial glow his face was white.

"Oh no…" she whispered.

_"If he's gone to their side then he's no son of ours!"_

The two watchers saw the figure stumble slightly before turning and leaving at a run, bypassing the wards. When it reached the road it Apparated. Harry had never really liked the third Weasley son but he couldn't help feeling sorry for him…if the accusation was untrue.

"What are you staring out there for?" asked Ron in a slightly hysterical tone. Harry and Hermione whirled around, glancing at each other.

"Nothing…we thought we saw…nothing…" stammered Hermione. Luckily, Ron was too upset to notice. Fred and George both had very ugly looks on their faces and Fred in particular looked dangerous. Ron was white-faced and shocked and Ginny was already in tears. It's one thing to have a family row, for someone to leave because of foolishness…but quite another for them to join the people who've tried to kill you. And quite another from hearing them disowned.

"I'm not surprised!" hissed Fred angrily. "I'm glad he's not our brother…"

"Don't say that!" shouted Ginny furiously. She had been as angry as any of them with Percy but that didn't mean…

"Hush! Listen…"

The informer had gone, it seemed, leaving the Weasley parents alone.

_"No…no I didn't. You're right, Molly. It's circumstantial at best. Perhaps a little more… Could it be true? I hope not…"_

_"I can't believe it. Percy…wouldn't! I honestly think that he did think we were wrong about Voldemort's return, that's why he joined the Ministry. But now…he remembers the last war- he was the one looking after the younger ones when…when you were missing and I…I couldn't."_ There was a sigh._ "It was lot of responsibility for a six-year old…made him older then his years. It wasn't always a good thing- look how it made him a target for the twins teasing. But he was always the responsible, sensible one. How can I believe second and third-hand information over everything I know about my own son?"_

There was a pregnant pause upstairs. The twins still looked pugnacious and Ron half-way between upset and furious but Hermione felt like she could risk some very diplomatic stepping in.

"Hold on…what proof is there really that he's done anything like that? Somebody says that some else says they saw the Dark Mark on his arm. Well, it's hardly the first time that's happened. In the last war there were three known cases of people being lynched because of accusation like that, where the person had made a mistake. If he had it, he would be being very careful to hide it, wouldn't he?"

Harry nodded firmly and Ron more slowly. The twins looked unconvinced.

"So he set up the meetings between Malfoy and Fudge, well, of course he would! He's the man's Undersecretary! That's his _job_!"

"Job sucks…" someone muttered. Hermione thought it might have been George, but she continued.

"And Fudge in league with Voldemort…" As a muggleborn herself, Hermione had never been quite so affected as the Weasley's, who winced in unison. They all paused. The idea that Fudge, idiot though he undoubtedly was, would go so far was horrifying.

"How do you explain that one, Hermione?" asked Ginny, sounding more defeated then accusatory. Hermione shrugged.

"I rather doubt that he'd have brought a young, green Ministry worker; the _son_ of one of the most outspoken families on the side of the light, into his coterie. But that's just my opinion."

"He's very ambitious is Percy…and he's always been strongly in favour of Fudge," said Ron slowly. "It's possible that he went for what he saw as the winning side. Especially if Fudge was there…" He sounded as if he wanted this to get shot down. Hermione shrugged again. She couldn't really say that she'd seen his face when that accusation had rung out and he'd looked so horrified and betrayed that she almost _had _to believe he was innocent.

"Actually, something always struck me as a bit odd about that row…" said Ginny thoughtfully. "I was there for it, remember, you only got it second hand- or what you heard upstairs. What he said…it all struck me as a bit…I don't know. He said that about his promotion proudly all right and was shocked when Dad said what he did…but then he…what he said sounded almost rehearsed, somehow. Oh I don't know, not rehearsed precisely but…staged kind of." She trailed off, hunting for words. "He got every topic that would hurt Mum and Dad." She frowned again. "It was like he was looking for an excuse to…I don't know, storm out?"

"Why would that benefit him?" asked Fred, sounding a bit baffled. Ginny shrugged impatiently.

"How should I know? All I'm saying is I think there's more to all this then we know about. I don't why I think that but I do."

"He packed and left fairly suddenly didn't he?" asked Harry. "Maybe he left behind some sort of clue…or something. If there is more to this…" He shrugged helplessly. He couldn't say why but this all felt wrong. And it had something to do with that dream. Ron looked suddenly hopeful.

"Maybe!" He sprang to his feet and was halfway out the door before anyone else had chance to move. Fred and George followed last, sceptically. While they didn't hate their brother, or even really dislike him (under normal circumstances), they had never hidden the fact that they didn't have much time for him. It didn't seem beyond the bounds of possibility that Prissy Percy had snapped and joined the Dark Wizards. Actually…they glanced at each other, sharing a mental picture of their elder brother; prim, rule-following Percy, in a Death-Eater's robe.

"Maybe it is kind of unlikely…" muttered George. Fred shrugged, eyebrows furrowed worriedly.

Percy's room was neat, although slightly musty from not having been used in six months. (Even the door had been kept shut for the last four, everything exactly as he had left it.) This was mainly due to anger in the case of his siblings and maybe hope the case of his parents.

"Where do we start?" asked Ron, looking helplessly around. "What are we looking for?" Ginny stepped forward.

"Anything. Anything that'll help." She moved to his bedside locker first and opened it. The others scattered, although Harry and Hermione hung about near the door, ostensibly keeping a look-out, but more because they were rather uncomfortable with going through someone else's things. They weren't related to him.

"Diary…empty diary…" sighed Ginny. While she wouldn't have really wanted to go through her brother's diary any more then (she blushed) the idea of one of them going through hers, it might have held something useful.

"No clothes in here, except Hogwarts uniforms…he kept his Hogwarts uniform?" Fred with a certain amount of horror. "I think ours got used for the test-dummies in the shop…" His voice trailed off as he spotted something out of place in the excessively neat wardrobe. Something black…in the corner.

"_Lumos_." Several years of living in a room where the results of magical accidents could make the socks bite you had resulted in natural caution when it came to pulling things out of the backs of cupboards.

"What is it?" asked Ron, peering over his shoulder.

"I don't know…" he reached in and caught the edge of…fabric. He shook it cautiously, and when it didn't react, pulled it out.

"It's a robe. You get them in wardrobes," sighed Ginny dispiritedly. "Come on, there's nothing here." But Ron picked it up.

"Perce's an obsessive neat-freak. Why's that there?" He let it fall open and paled again. "What the hell?"

There was a tear in the robe along the left side. The edges were burned but the fabric all around it was stiff.

"I… think we've found something…" he said with a certain amount of shock. Someone looked over his shoulder and whistled.

"Is that…?"

"I think so…"

"Blood!" Hermione confirmed her voice somewhere between horrified and confused. She frowned and hypothesised out loud; "It… looks like someone was wearing that when they got hit by a dark spell. But with that amount of blood lost…look where it is- that should have killed whoever was wearing it." There was another long pause as Ron looked inside the collar with slightly shaking hands.

"P. Weasley."

* * *

They sat in a circle in the room Ginny and Hermione were sharing. Ron was still holding the scorched robe.

"It doesn't answer any questions!" he said in frustration, staring again at the dark stain. "It just raises more! Like…like…"

"Like who's blood that is. I can't believe that whoever was wearing it survived. We did science in school- Muggle school- and…well, there's a lot of blood there…" It was Hermione this time. Her eyes narrowed and she sprang up again, muttering something about a book before sprinting out of the room. She returned less then a minute later, hefting a heavy tome which she sank to the floor holding and immediately started poring through.

"Here! I knew I'd seen it! Fred, George, do you have potion ingredients like knotgrass, Doxy- hair, ash-bark, cows milk? oh…dragon scale…that's ended that idea!" she finished in frustration.

"I have a necklace with a scale on it- Charlie sent it to me a few years ago…what's this for?" Ginny leaned over he shoulder and whistled. Fred glanced at George and nodded.

"Yeah, those should be no problem, I think we've still got some of the Doxy-hair somewhere. We've an ash in the garden, and Mum's got an ornamental knotgrass plant in the bathroom. What are you planning?"

"There was a hairbrush in Percy's room. If we make a DNA potion we can find out if the blood matches the hair. A brilliant Muggle-born researcher created this back in the 1930's, based on work by Muggle scientists."

Harry would bet that he was the only other one that had even heard of Deoxyribonucleic Acid (and even he only had the vaguest idea what it was about) but it was a measure to how much the others respected Hermione's brain that they started moving immediately, Ginny to her room for her precious dragon scale necklace, Ron towards the bathroom to harvest some knotgrass. Fred looked outside and figured the coast was probably clear for him to swipe some ash bark without being spotted by their parents. Hermione was reading the potion.

"This is actually pretty easy. No stewing things, no cooking involved even. All we have to do is dissolve two stalks of knotgrass into each of two bowls of milk. Oh, we need to burn the Doxy-hair to powder, that's going to make a bit of a stink, split it between the potions. Break the scale, sorry Ginny, into halves, same. Leave for exactly ten minutes then we have to add some of the blood from the robe to one and, in our instance, a hair, of the person we want to compare it too. If they turn the same colour then…it's the same person who gave both samples."

George silently left to burn the doxy-hair. He'd never really wanted to believe that his brother was a Death-Eater and although he wasn't sure how it would, if this helped prove his innocence then he was prepared to do it.

Exactly fourteen minutes later, the six young people were crouching over the two bowls. The milk had turned a shade of off-pink after the doxy-hair had been added. Now Hermione held a red hair from the hairbrush in a tweezers to make sure none of her DNA got mixed in while George had used a minor blood-replenisher spell on the robe to get enough liquid blood to add. Ron now had it in a teaspoon and was looking at it in worried fascination.

"Ten seconds…" Hermione murmured, looking at her watch with tension apparent in the thin whitened line of her lips. "Now…" She pushed the hair into the liquid at the same time as Ron dropped the contents of the spoon into his bowl. They watched anxiously, not entirely sure of what they were trying to prove but waiting anyway. Ron's bowl had turned a deep scarlet but the one with the hair was gradually turning blue. The watchers let out sighs of relief but then the scarlet bowl started changing. Within five seconds or so, both bowls contained liquid of an identical deep blue.

"So what does that prove anyway?" asked Ginny in a high-pitched tone.

"I…don't know…except that at some point P…he was injured by something like _Reducto _or another offensive spell and lost a lot of blood. For some reason he didn't tell anyone and must have left soon after…or he'd have destroyed this presumably, if he didn't want anyone to know?" Hermione's logic seemed to have run out about there.

"Well, it proves nothing either way as to whether or not Percy's a…Death Eater," said one of the twins, crossing his arms. But he didn't seem quite as accusatory as before, staring at the results of their experiment.

"I don't know…" she replied as Ginny viciously _Scourgify_ed the two bowls.

* * *

_Right, that'll teach them to be so ready to condemn! So Neville and Luna are entering the arena. Will they blame Harry? will Harry be completely paranoid? And what's going to happen when Percy joins the Knights?_

Nice reviewy button. big puppy dog eyes!>

AZ


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